


The Last Word

by DocMarten2525



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 02:24:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19219663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocMarten2525/pseuds/DocMarten2525
Summary: Many years have passed and the Sole Survivor is once again the last man standing. What happens to heroes after they walk off into the sunset? A sequel to my earlier work, "Ghosts".





	The Last Word

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically the last work in my Fallout 4 headcanon. All comments, critiques, thoughts or suggestions happily welcomed.

The voice called his name again, more urgently this time.

“Go away,” he said distinctly. He was warm and comfortable, and he’d been having such a marvellous dream. Besides, it wasn’t anywhere near reveille. He had hours yet.

He heard it again, then felt a tugging on his arm, and a voice, exasperated: “Oh! Get up. You must get up. I cannot lift you.”

There was something familiar about the voice. “Piper? Is that you?” he said.

“No. It is Curie. Wake up, General. _Wake up!_ ”

Nate Howard opened his eyes and looked around. He was on a wooded hillside with a wide valley below, and though the sky was now clear, it had been snowing earlier. Night had fallen but he could see the moonlight glistening on the freshly-fallen snow and reflected in the water of the little river that wound back and forth along the valley floor. It was a beautiful scene, reminding him of a Christmas card he’d seen once, before the War, before the bombs made a mockery of the idea of a loving God, or that the Prince of Peace had once been born amid a chorus of angels.

“The behemoth?” he finally said, remembering. “Where did it go?” He thought he could see it out of the corner of his eye – a huge, man-shaped beast lying on the ground some distance away. He’d gone after it not even sure if it actually existed or was just a rumour. And he’d found it, here on this lonely hill far from everything and everybody.

“It is dead,” Curie said in the French accent that not even decades of living in the the Commonwealth had erased. “You killed it.” Good ol’ Curie, he thought. A good friend. His last friend, from the old days. But Piper had just been there. He’d been telling her about Nick. Where had she gone?

“Where’s Piper?” he asked thickly. Curie was leaning over him, her short-cropped dark hair framing her still-youthful face. Curie, the everlasting; always young while the years ground down everyone else in the world, until finally it was just the two of them left. And Piper. He smiled at the thought.

“Piper is dead, _mon cher_ ,” Curie said softly. “We held her hands, you and I, in the sunlight in the garden by the house, and watched her spirit take wing. Don’t you remember?”

He shook his head. “No, that can’t be. We were just talking. She was right here.”

Curie tugged at his arm. “You must come. It is getting colder and the wind is coming up. It will freeze hard tonight, I think, and then you will die. There is a shack close by. It will be warm there. I can get you there, but you have to help me.”

Nate didn’t really see the point. He was perfectly warm where he was. But if Curie said he needed to go, probably he did. She’d always been the practical one.

With her help, he struggled to his feet. His legs weren’t working very well. He couldn’t really feel them, now that he thought about it, and with every step he felt a tearing pain somewhere in his lower abdomen that seemed to be getting worse. He bent over and coughed blood; dark flecks on the snow in the moonlight. That couldn’t be good. A stimpack would help. He’d had two in his pocket. But no – he’d used them in the battle with the behemoth. What a fight that had been. He grinned at the memory.

It took them a while to get to the cabin. They entered and Curie lit a lamp hanging by the door. It was small but snugly made, with firewood neatly stacked by the stove and a little table under some cupboards next to the bed. There were snare lines and other gear hanging on the walls. A trapper’s cabin, he guessed, for when the owner was out working the traplines.

She laid him carefully down on the bed, slipping off his boots and opening up his blood-soaked coat. He’d lost his hat somewhere. But probably he didn’t need it. Nor his boots, for that matter. It was too bad. He’d had them a long time.

She cut open his shirt and gasped at what she saw, turning away so he couldn’t see her face. He smiled at her and patted her hand.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” he said. She hesitated and tears filled her eyes. “It’s okay,” he added. “You can tell me the truth.”

She closed his shirt again. “It is, yes. Very. There is no force under Heaven which will keep you on Earth much longer. I am sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s been a good run. Better than I ever expected.”

He touched her face, wiping away a tear. Then he paused and cocked his head as if listening. “I think I need to go now,” he said after a minute. “It’s been such a long time and I’m so tired.”

She stroked his face. “General – Nate – I must tell you something. It is something Amari told me, on the day I awoke in this body. There is a – a switch, you might say, in the body of a synth. Something the Institute puts in as a fail safe so that rogue units can be shut down if need be. Amari disabled it, as she did with all the synths that came through the Memory Den. But it is still there, and we each have the ability to use it, if we wish.”

He started to say something but she silenced him with a finger to his lips. “No, let me finish. I must say this, and we have little time. When you brought me out of the Vault that had been my home for so long, you gave me everything. You gave me this body and all the beautiful things it can experience and the marvels it can do. You gave me smell and touch and laughter and the feeling of a heart pounding with excitement. You gave me the world, and for that I have loved you from the moment I looked out through these eyes.”

“I loved you too, Curie,” he said. “You know that.”

“I do.” She smiled tenderly at him and brushed her fingers through his hair. “But you loved Piper first, and best, and it is to her you gave your heart. And that is how it was meant to be. But I want to tell you, Nate Howard, that when the spirit leaves your body, it will leave mine, too. I will not live in a world that does not have you in it, no matter how beautiful it is.”

“Curie – no,” he said. “Why? You will live for years – decades – centuries, maybe.”

“And for what purpose? So I can stay young forever and see everyone I give my heart to fade and die like last year’s daffodils? I cannot bear the thought anymore. So now, the time is good.”

There was silence. Then he said: “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She lay down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “Sleep, now, my love. Sleep.”

Nate closed his eyes. Then he opened them with a start and looked around wildly. “Did you hear that?” he said. “Did you hear? It was Piper. She called my name. I heard her.”

“Shhh. I feel it too; she is close. Now close your eyes and we will find her together.”

“Curie?”

“Yes?”

“Do synths have souls?”

“All things have a soul.”

-OOO-


End file.
